


Varsity Greens

by dbzkink



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Alien Biology, Alien Culture, Alien Sex, Aliens, Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal, Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Athletes, Awkward Aliens, Awkward Boners, Awkward Flirting, Basketball, Boys Kissing, Closeted Character, College, F/M, Gay, Gay Sex, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Kissing, M/M, Secret Crush, This is NOT Vegebul, Wrestling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 13:15:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29136168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dbzkink/pseuds/dbzkink
Summary: Vegeta is the champion wrestler at the premier university in West City. He's put out that the latest basketball recruit is hogging the sporting spotlight, but finds himself feeling more than anger once he meets the rookie.
Relationships: Bulma Briefs/Vegeta, Piccolo/Vegeta (Dragon Ball)
Comments: 40
Kudos: 27





	1. New Heights, New Depths

**Author's Note:**

> First of all this is NOT Vegebul. There is Vegeta/Bulma, but if that's your sacred ship, please do not at me about this fic because it is NOT Vegebul. 
> 
> Second, there is homophobic language and culture in this fic. When I write gross homophobic attitudes, it saddens me that this is still REAL in many places and shallow minds and shriveled black hearts. Know that I hate the language and the attitude, but sometimes it's necessary to show the toxicity of homophobia and heteronormative culture. Someday I hope this sort of world will seem absolutely inconceivable and far-fetched.
> 
> Third, this was inspired by @23Subject on Twitter discussing a college AU. I went a different direction, but it never would have occurred to me without them, so thanks!
> 
> Last, this is a gay, alien romance with erotica. There will be all kinds of explicit gay stuff. There will be alien biology and culture and sexuality. Don't like, don't read.
> 
> Comments and kudos are always lovely! Thanks for reading!

“It’s just fucking obnoxious. He’s only getting so much fucking press because he’s fucking _tall,_ ” Vegeta said and growled and he threw back a shot with his teammate, Raditz. He didn’t particularly care for Raditz, but beggars couldn’t be choosers and the campus was nearly empty except for athletes, who all moved into their dorms a month early so they could start practicing.

Vegeta glowered. The party they’d found themselves at was a frat party, and Vegeta, who believed one’s social status shouldn’t rest on kissing the asses of others, resisted the push for the entire wrestling team to join this particular frat. He was a sophomore, so most of his teammates were new members. Vegeta hated all fucking frats and he was godsdamned royalty, there was no fucking reason he should have to join some weird cult to prove his social worth. It drove him crazy that it had harmed him socially to resist the stupidity of it all. Not that Vegeta was a particularly social creature anyway.

Vegeta stood up to get another drink, and a deep voice he didn’t recognize boomed out, “Yeah, well you only get press because your daddy is a king of some podunk planet that no one gives a shit about, so not sure you’ve got a leg to stand on there. Besides, I’d kick your ass in any sport. So you wanna say that again to my face?”

Vegeta turned to find, looming in the corner of the room, a fucking _giant_. Gods the man was tall. There was no denying that it was impressive to even be near him. Vegeta was short by Earthling standards, so he was accustomed to looking up at people while looking down on them. It was necessary. Otherwise the assholes thought they were _better_ than him, than Vegeta the Fucking Fourth, heir to the throne of Vegeta-sei, which was not _podunk_ , they fucking ran the universe. Mostly. Aside from the stupid Ice-jin.

Vegeta cocked his head to the side and smirked. He swaggered toward the beast of a man. A Namek. Vegeta hadn’t heard that. He knew the man was raised on Earth, so he just assumed that he was a human. But he wasn’t. A big, baritone-voiced, buff as all hell _Namek_. Vegeta said, “Oh? You think so? I bet I could fold you up like a fucking pretzel.”

“Yeah, well, if we’re gonna go head to head in sports that we are literally paid to play, after you fold me up and pin me down,” the tall Namek paused as his eyes slid up and down Vegeta’s body in a way that made Vegeta swallow hard, “Then afterwards, you can run a game of one-on-one with me. How’s that sound?”

“Oh shut the fuck up, of course you’d trounce me in basketball. I’m basically a fucking midget. But I bet I can out-run you, out-lift you. Out-anything but fucking _height_ you.”

“Look at the balls on your tiny little body. That’s a bold statement to make, little guy. You gonna back it up?” The Namek stepped out of the shadows and it turned out he had been slumping. He fucking _towered_ over Vegeta. Vegeta could practically…well…no…it wouldn’t do to let his mind go down that path because he might not be able to turn around.

Vegeta snorted and to his horror, his eyes dodged away. Vegeta never lost a stare down, but the Namek was rattling him. It was maddening. The behemoth poured the rest of his beer down his throat, his hand engulfing the red solo cup, and daintily put it on the early makings of a beer pong table. “You wanna try me right now, little fella?”

“Call me fucking ‘little’ again and I’ll show you my wrestling moves right here in this dingy fucking frat house,” Vegeta growled.

Again, the Namek’s gaze made Vegeta’s insides heat as his eyelids lowered, and a deadly half-smile lit his face as he bent and purred, “Nah, not right here on the floor. Too filthy. Let’s at least go outside. You wanna show me you’re not _little_?”

“You have a lot of fucking nerve on you for a fucking rookie!” Vegeta bit out. He was horrified at his own body’s reaction to this man. What the hell was wrong with Vegeta? He needed to get out of there. “I have nothing to prove to you, you overgrown piece of shit.” Vegeta found a tray of jello shots, and along with it, a cluster of pretty girls. The one with blue hair kept tucking it behind her ear whenever she looked Vegeta’s way.

When he turned around, the enormous man was gone. Vegeta startled. How had the big bastard slipped away like that? It was unsettling. Vegeta tried to see where the man had gone, but couldn’t find him. Vegeta was about to go see if he was just hiding on purpose when the pretty blue-head said, “Hey, handsome, you a freshman?”

“What?! No!” Vegeta said, he knew he should pay attention to the pretty woman in front of him. She had beautiful, full breasts, and her turquoise eyes sparkled, even in the dim light. He willed himself to forget about that ridiculous interaction with the stupid rookie.

“Settle down, I didn’t mean to insult you. You’re just not a member of this frat, so I assumed that you were going to rush,” she said and ran her hand down his arm.

He tore his attention away from every shadowy corner he could search for the blasted Namek. He smirked down at the blue-head. “Sorry. I…no. I don’t do frats. They piss me off. All my fucking wrestling buddies rushed last year though, so they’re all here. I may has well have joined for all the fucking time I spend here.”

“Jeez, you sound like you need another drink or two. What’s got you all crabby? Are you looking for someone?” Vegeta could hear she was already losing interest in him.

He met her eyes again and said, “Sorry. Some asshole was talking shit to me and then ducked out of the party. I didn’t even catch his name to make him regret it. Fucking asshole.”

“Well, maybe you should stop thinking about an asshole and pay attention to what’s right in front of you?” The woman purred.

Vegeta kept his eyes on her despite the fact that he misunderstood her telling him not to think about asshole. Vegeta grunted and said, “You think I need another drink, so perhaps you’d like to help me with that, hmm? Perhaps you’d be interested in doing some body shots?”

She grinned and tucked her silky, almost turquoise hair behind her ear for the millionth time. “Yeah, I’d do some body shots with you. Your body looks like it was made to lick.”

“Tch. Perhaps,” Vegeta said and tried to lose himself in drinking with the pretty woman.

* * *

Vegeta woke the next morning with a pounding headache. He sat up to find the woman in his bed. “Fuck,” he muttered to himself. He had no memory of fucking her, but he obviously had. He peeked in his trash can, at least there were freshly tossed condoms so he hadn’t been a complete fucking moron.

He nudged her and when she groaned, he rolled his eyes and leaned to kiss her cheek. “Wake up, I have to get going. Sorry to kick you out.”

She grumbled and slithered out of his bed, obviously feeling no better than he did. She pulled on her tight jeans, smoothed her hair, and stuffed her bra in her back pocket as she shrugged on her shirt and jacket. “You, um, want my number?” she said blearily.

Vegeta didn’t, if he was being honest, but he didn’t want to be a dick either. He hated himself enough already for bringing her home with him. He hopped out of bed and grabbed his phone. “Of course, I’ll text you. I have a ton of practice the next few weeks. Why are you back early? What do you play?”

“Hmm? Oh, I’m a cheerleader,” she took his phone and typed in her number and he thanked every god he could imagine that she typed in her name too.

“Thanks for last night, Bulma,” he said experimentally, wondering if he’d used her name the night before and just forgot, or if he was just that much of a prick that he’d never bothered to ask it.

“You too, Vegeta. You’ll text? We…we should try it sober. The parts I remember were fun,” she said and kissed him.

A new wave of self-loathing washed over him as he actually cringed when she kissed him. It did not go unnoticed and she sighed. “You’re not going to call me, are you?”

“Sorry, my head is killing me. I should not have had that much to drink last night. I’ll text. We can grab dinner later, yes?” Vegeta said and wanted to slap himself. Why was he doing this to himself or the poor woman? She didn’t deserve to be strung along. He should let her go. Let her leave it at a one night stand with no affection. Not that anyone ever felt affection for Vegeta, but once they googled him, they felt affection for his status.

She smiled and said, “Oh…okay, yeah, sure, you want me to just meet you here?” She tucked her hair again.

“Ah, yes, sure. Say seven-thirty? That gives me a bit of time to shower after my last practice.”

“Perfect. See you tonight,” she said and squeezed his hand as she slinked out his door, her perky ass swishing side to side in a way that Vegeta knew was supposed to be alluring. 

Practice was a miserable affair, and he was grateful that he was vastly superior to everyone on his team, so he held his own, despite feeling fucking awful on a lot of different levels. The dread for the evening ahead of him was physically painful. He needed to text her and back out, but he knew that she was a good catch. He should date her. He should want to date her. He should want her to be his girlfriend. Wasn’t that the whole cliché? The jock and the cheerleader? Both attractive and popular and talented and smart. Not that he knew anything about her except the fact that she was hot and wanted him for some bizarre reason, most likely his physique.

“Vegeta? What the fuck you doin’? You just gonna stare at your fuckin’ belly button? Get on the fuckin’ mat!” Coach Nappa wasn’t known for subtlety or gentleness.

Vegeta did as he was told and wrestled his way through the day. As he showered, all the boys were all comparing notes about their conquests from the night before. Goku, the fucking doofus, said, “Hey, ‘Geta, I heard you went home with Bulma Briefs!”

“Is…should…that mean something to me? She’s very pretty,” Vegeta said lamely, as the woman was still causing him considerable anxiety.

Goku looked taken aback by how calm Vegeta was. Vegeta tended to berate Goku because Goku was the only one who ever fucking beat Vegeta. It pissed him off. Goku was taller than him too. And he hated that Goku was a Saiyan. It shamed Vegeta that he was being bested by one of his fucking subjects.

Goku said, “I mean…she’s the heir to the Capsule Corp fortune and from what I hear, she’s a genius. Cute too. I think Chi was worried that I’d fall for her when I met her. I like her though, so down to Earth for someone so rich. She tutored me in a couple classes last year. She’s fun. You should try to land her on a more permanent basis, ‘Geta.”

Vegeta raised a nostril as he finished rinsing and said, “Yes, well, I’ll take your words under advisement. I’m going out with her again tonight.”

Raditz, being the skeevy asshole he was said, “She put out, Veggie?”

“Do not fucking call me that,” Vegeta snarled, “And that is none of your fucking business. What kind of classless prat talks about what they did with a sexual partner?”

“Sexual partner, huh?” Raditz said and rammed an elbow into Goku’s ribs, “Sounds like Veggie _did_ get some, but it didn’t improve his mood at all. Why don’t you just say girl? You sound stuck up.”

“I am stuck up, you dumb asshole,” Vegeta said and whipped the water from his hair as he toweled off. He dressed and left the locker room before there could be any more discussion of where he put his fucking dick. He hated those two, even if they were also sort of, kind of, his friends. There weren’t very many Saiyans on campus, and of course they were all here on athletic scholarships. The humans whined about it constantly, but it wasn’t Vegeta’s fault that Saiyans started training when they were still basically infants. That they built muscle mass easily. That they were strong.

Vegeta strolled through the gym on his way to the exit and heard an unusual amount of chatter and cheering. He turned and wanted to scream. The stupid fucking Namek moved down the basketball court like some kind of _wraith_ and dropped the ball in the hoop while what appeared to be not five, but _nine_ players tried to stop him. He moved with the grace of a dancer, the way he spun around them all. He handled the ball like it was an extension of his body.

Vegeta stared in awe. The ridiculously tall creature was a fucking god on the court. He was actually playing all nine other players and mopping the floor with them. The groaning of all his teammates made the big Namek laugh. A rumbling, velvety laugh that also made Vegeta need to close his eyes and take a deep breath as he came back to himself and hurried toward the exit. He prayed to any and all gods that the fucking behemoth wouldn’t spot Vegeta with his distinctive black flame of gravity-defying hair.

“Hey-o, Wrestler-Boy, you want to come see if you can match me on the court? Or maybe you want me to meet you on the mat? Try to pin me down?”

Vegeta cringed hearing the deep voice boom across the gymnasium. Vegeta had two options, he could flee, like a cowardly bitch, or he could try to think up some snappy retort. His mind was absolutely blank. He had nothing. His mouth had gone completely dry. How was the Namek affecting him this way? In a flash of humiliation prevention, he sneered and called, “Not today, Namek, I have a date.” 

The fucking Namek’s eyes glittered as he did dizzying things with the ball, ending with it spinning behind his back while he sauntered in Vegeta’s direction with his long, powerful legs. Gods. Vegeta needed to stop looking at the fucking behemoth and his ridiculous body. The man’s arms were massive. But his waist was so narrow. Vegeta’s mind filled with what his own hands would look like spread on that snatched waist. Vegeta wanted to shake his head. It wasn’t as though he wasn’t constantly surrounded by men with fantastic bodies.

“Well, good luck with Ms. Briefs!” The Namek grinned at Vegeta and wiggled his brows suggestively.

Vegeta gaped. How had the tall bastard managed to get the upper hand, yet again?! Furthermore, how did he know that was who Vegeta was going out with? Vegeta was furious. Now everyone in the fucking gym knew he was going on a date with some apparently famous heiress. It was the last thing Vegeta needed in his life. Vegeta had hoped to take the woman out for a quiet date and then let her down easily, busy schedule and all that.

Half of the Namek’s mouth curled up in a knowing smile, like he had somehow planned this complication to Vegeta’s life. His sharp canine fang showed on that side. Vegeta glared at him a moment longer. The fucking Namek winked at him! Vegeta’s eyes widened and he had to stifle the urge to call out names after the big man as he whirled back onto the court with a cheeky smirk over his shoulder at Vegeta. Just what the fuck did that mean? Vegeta stormed out of the gym with his bag slung over his shoulder.

The woman—Bulma, he needed to remember to use her fucking name—Bulma was already outside his door. He glanced at his watch. Vegeta gaped. He was already five minutes late. He had to use all his will to control his facial expression as he thought about what his watch had said when he left the locker room. He must have stood ogling the Namek for a solid fifteen minutes. How humiliating. No wonder the fucking asshole winked at Vegeta, he had been standing there like a dumbstruck idiot.

Vegeta said, “Apologies…I got hung up at practice.”

She raised an eyebrow and said, “Raditz and Goku are both done, what were you doing?”

“Defending my fucking honor,” Vegeta said, attempting to calm himself with a long breath out his nose. Maybe the woman would wish to renege on their date since he wasn’t punctual. It also occurred to him that he had no actual plan for where to take her. This was why he didn’t date. One of many reasons, he thought, shaking his head.

The woman trailed him into his room and he wanted to scream at her to give him a moment’s peace to collect himself after the confusing interaction he’d just had. She said, “What’s that mean? You challenge someone to a duel or something?”

“Just the same fucker shit-talking me that harassed me at the party,” Vegeta growled.

The woman continued to press him as he put his bag away and changed into a slightly nicer shirt. He led her bodily out of his room, even though it was clear she was angling for a go in the sack before they went out. Vegeta closed his eyes tightly as he locked his door. He would have to fuck her again. Sober. Vegeta vowed to make better life choices.

The universe seemed to have it in for Vegeta as he stepped out onto the quad with the woman. Because of course a sweaty, swaggering, laughing, ridiculously tall Namek was right there in Vegeta’s path. It surprised Vegeta when the Namek’s eyelids lowered and an inscrutable look froze his face for a moment. Then the cocky, lop-sided smile returned to the big man’s angular face, and he tipped Vegeta a little wave.

To Vegeta’s surprise, the woman called, “Oh! Hey! Piccolo! Did you guys just wrap up?”

Vegeta was sure he would suffocate upon realizing this was going to be his karma. Bulma took Vegeta’s hand like a child and dragged him toward Piccolo and the few teammates who trailed him, looking like ducklings behind their mother, Piccolo was so fucking tall. Vegeta swallowed hard and held his head high. She said, “Hey, Vegeta, this is Piccolo, he’s the basketball recruit that everyone’s been so excited about. Piccolo, this is Vegeta, he’s the Earth champion wrestler. Though Goku might give him a run this year.” The woman smiled like she thought this was simply the nicest thing she could say.

Vegeta stared at her, affronted that she was not only introducing him to his new _nemesis_ , but bringing up his rival in the same fucking breath. Piccolo hid his snicker and his fanged grin behind a big hand. He held his other out, bending over dramatically to draw attention to their height disparity. His eyes glittered with glee at this turn. Piccolo. Now at least Vegeta knew his name without having to suffer the indignity of asking someone.

“Yes, we’re acquainted,” Vegeta said, shaking the Namek’s hand with unnecessary force. The Namek seemed to enjoy their little test of strength, and squeezed back hard. But when Vegeta released his hand, he could’ve sworn the big man trailed his fingers softly down Vegeta’s palm. It felt sensual and Vegeta wanted to weep with shame as he felt his cheeks heat. He was fucking _blushing_ while meeting the big new star of the school. 

“Are we?” Piccolo said, tipping his head to the side. “I think I’d remember if I met you. What’s your name again? I didn’t catch it.”

Vegeta muttered his name and Piccolo smiled, flawless and friendly, so Vegeta would look like a complete asshole, dour and scowling as he was. Vegeta hated that the fucker was one-upping him at things that shouldn’t have even been competitive. Piccolo snapped his long fingers and said, “Oh, right. Yeah, you were at the party last night, saying something about my height. But you didn’t introduce yourself.”

The woman giggled beside Vegeta and said, “Oh, yeah? Piccolo do I have you to thank for getting laid last night? I picked him up while he was sulking about someone talking down to his royal highness.”

Vegeta turned slowly to the woman. What the fuck was wrong with her? It was like she and Piccolo were conspiring to humiliate him as much as possible. He blinked at her a few times, but she seemed to think it was all in good fun.

Piccolo laughed, throwing his head back, and shrugged. When he recovered, he looked down at Vegeta, his eyes slightly narrowed and a wicked smile on his face and said, “I guess maybe? I dunno, I heard him say some catty, jealous shit, but then I went on my way. I had better things to do than spend Thursday night in foul-smelling frat house. I don’t want to keep you two from your fun night out, though. See you later, Bulma. You have fun with this one. He looks like a good time,” Piccolo said and the insolent motherfucker gave Vegeta an overly friendly smack on the shoulder.

Vegeta focused on controlling his breathing the entire walk to his car. The woman prattled at him about how great the big Namek was, and so nice, and friendly with everyone, and did Vegeta know he was smart too? Vegeta muttered answers trying so hard not to sound petulant, and sounding petulant anyway.

They arrived at his car, a sleek electric sports car. It was a custom royal blue metallic paint job. His house’s crest was done in a deep gunmetal color, spread on the hood. The woman didn’t even notice. She at least appreciated the specs of the car, as she was an engineering major of some sort. Vegeta could barely pay attention. He took her to one of the little hotspots in West City with a cluster of restaurants.

Vegeta made it through the date, but never managed to dredge up even the tiniest bit of enthusiasm. If nothing else, he hoped that meant she wouldn’t want to sleep with him when they got back to campus. As he parked, he could smell she was turned on, though how or why was a fucking mystery to Vegeta. He had never been less turned on in his life.

As she started kissing him and tugging at his clothes the second he closed his door behind him, Vegeta brought to bear one of his greatest gifts. Vegeta could get hard almost at will. He called on it now and got hard for the woman. He fucked the woman properly against the wall of his room. He fucked her again in his bed. He fucked her again in the morning as he bid her farewell. He faked coming every single time and thankfully the woman didn’t notice.


	2. Track and Field

Vegeta found ways to sneak around the main gym to get to practice. He didn’t think he could bear the Namek looking at him any more. Especially since Vegeta was trying drop the woman. She persistently pestered him though. She even had the gall to invite Vegeta to some pre-season scrimmage where the big, stupid Namek would be playing. Vegeta growled every time she texted him. It was absolutely maddening. He needed classes to start. What the hell kind of woman didn’t take the hint after a whole week of every invitation being rejected?

Vegeta tried to make himself scarce on campus. The time on campus that was only athletes, before the rest of the student body returned, was a bit of a Bacchanalia, with everyone drinking and fucking. Parties happened every night. Vegeta knew that as the front man for the wrestling team, it was likely drawing notice from his teammates that he was not at these parties. His only hope was that perhaps the woman wasn’t going to them either, and that maybe it would create the impression they were just shacked up, endlessly fucking.

The only thing Vegeta was endlessly fucking was his own godsdamned hand. It shamed him every time that he thought of a certain sexy basketball player winking at him. But never enough that he stopped imagining the various textures of the Namek’s skin. Never enough that he stopped picturing that fanged half-smile glowing above him. Never enough that he stopped thinking about the infernal, undoubtedly straight-as-an-arrow Namek.

Vegeta wasn’t exactly in the closet. He just wasn’t out of it either. Vegeta didn’t mind fucking women, and the whole issue of sexuality on Earth was much more complicated than it was on Vegeta-sei. On Vegeta-sei, people fucked people. They were a space-faring, colonizing species, so they pretty much fucked anything sentient and mature enough to consent.

Arriving in the prime of his sexual life on a planet that apparently categorized various configurations of genitalia during sex had shocked the shit out of Vegeta. The first time he’d approached a sexy guy to fuck, the man told him with alarm and disgust that he was straight. Vegeta had no idea what that even meant. But after a horrified night spent on the internet researching the situation, he realized he might not have any sexual peace the following four years of his life. Vegeta felt broken. He didn’t even get to go home over the summer or winter breaks.

In his experience, which was very limited after that first disaster, he had discovered that extreme homophobia was the norm in West City. He read with shocked disbelief that it was actually illegal, punishable both with jail time and fines. But especially amongst athletes, it was vicious and monolithic: liking someone with the same genitalia was strictly off-limits.

Vegeta had been attracted to some women, so he could get by. He fucked them now and again to keep up appearances. He’d never thought of himself as straight or gay or bi, or any of that nonsense because he either was attracted to an individual or he wasn’t. He’d never found anyone on the accursed planet that really _sated_ him or even captured his interest. Until now. And of course it would be someone that was forbidden. Likely completely uninterested anyway, but Vegeta couldn’t even make a move. He couldn’t even _flirt_. 

That jacked, green someone had his full attention now, and Vegeta was hungry. He was starving. And that stupid, fucking gorgeous, tall, impetuous Namek had to show up and tease him in a way that was so perilously close to flirting that Vegeta almost couldn’t stand it. It upset him more because if not for the Earth nonsense, Vegeta would have flirted with gusto and put what little charm he had toward seducing the fucking giant.

Vegeta scrubbed his clean hand over his face after masturbating yet again thinking about the green behemoth. The man even smelled good. A good sweat smell was deadly for Vegeta. He couldn’t shake it. He took care of his mess and decided to go out running. It was another Thursday night, the biggest party night on campus, so he felt confident he could go run some sprints and have the track to himself.

The weather was humid and hot, so he wore only a pair of running shorts that bared most of his legs. He didn’t bother with a shirt. He hit the base of his dorm steps at a full run, and ripped off across campus, finding the trails in the dim light, too dark for humans to see. He ran all the trails to warm himself up, to get his blood going somewhere other than his dick, and headed to the track.

He set up some sprints on his watch and took off, doing four-hundreds to start. After eight, he bent over, his hands on his knees, panting for breath, his sweat dripping off his face and glittering in the full moon. Vegeta walked into the shallow water bay that ran alongside the track to get a drink. He slurped up a decent amount at one of the fountains, and splashed some on himself.

His imagination hadn’t shut down after his last little self-care session and he was half-hard. Full-hard, who was he kidding? He groaned seeing that his shorts were soaked enough to display that fact. He wondered if it was in bad taste to jack off in the grass as a brief break between sprints. He decided he didn’t care, so he strolled over to the dimmest corner of the field surrounding the track and pulled himself free.

Vegeta used his thumb to smear the pre-cum that already poured out of him in response to his hyperactive imagination. He used it to slick his head before squeezing his fist down his now very hard length. He tightened his ass to extend his cock fully. Vegeta bit his tongue when his treacherous mouth almost uttered the name of the man who lived rent-free in his head. He twisted his hand. He knew he should just hurry to the finish line, since he was essentially committing a crime, but he couldn’t help but linger over a particularly vivid fantasy he’d had about _actually_ pinning Piccolo to a wrestling mat and ravishing him. Vegeta swallowed, because he imagined being ravished in turn.

Vegeta had fucked his way through puberty on Vegeta-sei, but he had never _been_ fucked. Not because he didn’t want to bottom, but just because he’d never really felt that way about someone. But the moment the impertinent Namek first turned that mouth-watering half-smile on Vegeta, he could think of nothing he wanted more than for the Namek to bend Vegeta over, probably after setting him on a little fucking stool, and rail him.

Vegeta’s other hand wandered to his ass, but as he slipped it inside the waistband of his shorts, he heard rapid-fire steps on the track. “Shit!” Vegeta hissed, looking forlornly at his very, very hard cock. He willed it to go down, but tried to melt into the shadows as he made an exit plan to escape whatever other sad idiot was sprinting on a big party night.

Vegeta palmed his cock as he saw the runner. “Well, of-fucking-course. Gods, look at him,” Vegeta whispered to himself.

The Namek wore earbuds, which was fortunate, because Vegeta recalled with sudden horror after his words that Namek hearing was insanely good. Vegeta couldn’t take his eyes off the tall man. He was fast for someone so tall. Very fast. Lithe. Graceful. Light on his feet. And the amount of cloth on his body was fucking criminal. He looked like he was wearing the same fucking shorts as Vegeta, maybe one size up. It was unfair since he had an extra foot of leg and torso on either end.

Vegeta’s hand was unconsciously moving up and down his prick as he watched Piccolo rip off hundreds like he didn’t even need to breathe. It was beautiful. It was sexy. But Vegeta couldn’t stand in the corner like some creep masturbating while he watched. What if Piccolo _saw_ him? The thought thrilled Vegeta more than he wanted to admit.

When Piccolo was in the thick of a sprint, Vegeta sidled over to the water station. He willed his cock to behave and did his best to adjust it in such a way that it wouldn’t be ridiculously obvious. He got another drink and then emerged strategically so Piccolo would be on the far side of the track as Vegeta set off around the track, jogging at an easy pace to set himself up for the two-hundreds he planned.

It would be easier to run if his cock wasn’t monopolizing his blood supply, but that didn’t seem to be in the cards for him for the rest of his life. He cursed, “Fuck,” as he realized that the Namek was fast as sin, he would likely be able to keep pace with Vegeta, which was almost unheard of, even on the other teams. Vegeta could have come on a track scholarship, but he preferred wrestling.

Footsteps roared up on him, but they faltered and when Vegeta looked over his shoulder, he didn’t even have to feign surprise. The Namek looked so completely shocked to see Vegeta, or perhaps anyone, that it startled Vegeta in turn. His eyes widened. The Namek’s face transformed through a rainbow of emotions, but landed on indifference. A calculated indifference.

He gave Vegeta a nod and blazed past him as he launched into another hundred. Vegeta was tempted to rocket after him and _win_ , but he wasn’t confident he _could_ win. The worst possible thing would be losing to the damned behemoth. Gods. There was also the problem of his monster erection in his flimsy shorts. The man’s cake ass was breaking Vegeta’s dick as he flew into the distance. Vegeta could watch Piccolo run all day. Piccolo jogged the curve, and took off again. Vegeta hit the two-hundred mark and put on his own speed, despite his angry dick.

Vegeta refused to participate as the Namek waited for him at the finish of the two hundred. He would not engage with the Namek’s torturing him. The big man pulled out his headphones. Vegeta tried to keep the Namek’s gaze focused on his face instead of his still half-mast cock. Before Vegeta could say anything, the big man said, “You wanna do a couple twos together?”

There was no mockery or haughtiness in the comment. It was exactly as a friend would ask. Vegeta didn’t know if that meant it was some kind of trap. He answered warily, “I—Oh. Yes. Fine,” and wanted to slap himself for sounding terse and ridiculous. A heady thought crossed Vegeta’s mind. What if the Namek wasn’t exactly straight either? Was that a possibility? Vegeta knew nothing about Namek culture. But the Namek had been raised on Earth anyway. So he was straight. Vegeta was certain.

Piccolo wasn’t quite out of breath, but close, as he said, “On your watch? I forgot mine.”

Vegeta nodded, unable to coherently form words. He held up his hand and dropped it for them to start. Vegeta’s heart thundered, not just because he was nervous, but because the Namek was _fast_. Vegeta truly had never had to work this hard to beat someone in a casual sprint. But within a few short seconds it was over and he beat the Namek by a foot or so. It was clear though that he would have to do better than that because the big man wasn’t as winded as Vegeta as they jogged around the second curve of the track.

Vegeta wanted to say something witty, or clever, or really anything, because his nerves were eating him alive. The desire to impress the big man beside him was so overwhelming that Vegeta knew he simply needed to keep his mouth shut or he would likely make a fool of himself. Or end up asking the man how he felt about cock. Either option was not good. They hit the start of the next two hundred, paused for a beat, and Vegeta slashed his hand through the air again. 

He clawed his way through another two, and he kept ahead of the long strides of the other man. Vegeta half hoped his winning more than one would rattle the other man, but when he glanced up, Piccolo’s face was neutral, breathing hard, but not dying. Vegeta wanted to fluster him as the green bastard had done to him. Vegeta, against all inclination, gasped out, “How many?”

Piccolo shrugged and panted, “Doesn’t matter to me.”

“But…I…how many did you intend to do?” Vegeta said, annoyed that he was wasting his breath having this conversation at all. He should have just kept his mouth shut and run until the Namek said he was done.

“I didn’t,” Piccolo breathed as they approached the start of the next.

Vegeta resisted the urge to growl in frustration. They paused. He started them, and this time he was certain he wouldn’t be able to stay ahead, but at the last moment, he put on a burst of speed and got a step or two in front of those long, fast legs that were still making his prick rather more intrusive than he wanted. They jogged another two in silence and Vegeta despaired that this was all part of the Namek’s plan to humiliate him. He didn't need to beat Vegeta at individual races if he could just run him into the ground. Unlike Vegeta, the Namek showed no signs of tiring.

After another three twos, Vegeta grudgingly said, “I think I’m done.”

The tall man only nodded and slowed his jog even further. Vegeta kept jogging with him as they did a couple laps to cool down, and then followed like a loyal dog when the Namek went to the water station. Vegeta needed to _not_ be behind the man, because now his shorts were drenched in sweat and humidity and his ass was completely visible, completely bitable, completely fuckable. Vegeta used the last reserves of his strength not to moan as the Namek bent over to drink, having to fold himself more than in half to reach even the tallest spigot.

Vegeta drank too, closing his eyes and giving his prick a very stern dressing down about its out-of-control behavior. Piccolo stood back upright, running the back of his hand along his chin, and Vegeta steeled himself for the Namek’s jabs.

“Thanks for the sprints. See you around,” Piccolo said and took off, swooping low to pick up his phone and earbuds as he disappeared into the night, never even looking back. Vegeta nearly spluttered with indignity. The man got him again, by simply being civil. Vegeta wanted to fucking scream. Instead, he made his way to the dark corner where he’d been when the Namek arrived, and finished what he’d started, full to the brim with shame, but needing release so badly it was over in no time.


	3. The I in Piccolo

Vegeta didn’t even see the Namek again for the following several weeks, which he had very mixed feelings about. It was a relief because Vegeta couldn’t seem to keep his head around the tall man, but it was awful, because Vegeta just wanted to see him. To try to talk to him. To be near him. Vegeta reluctantly admitted, only to himself, that he had a very serious crush.

Making matters worse was the godsdamned situation with the blue-haired woman. She just periodically showed up at his room. He obliged her and fucked her every single time, but he did nothing to encourage it, and had long since stopped letting her stay in his room. He didn’t even understand it, but he’d found that as long as she mostly kept quiet and he kept his eyes closed, he could get off. Shame and self-loathing consumed him afterwards, but that was nothing new for Vegeta since he’d been on Earth. It lessened each time the woman showed up despite his ignoring her calls and texts and actively declining every single invitation she gave him when she caught him in person.

Campus wasn’t that large, it was only ten-thousand students, and slightly more than half were undergrads, so it rankled Vegeta that he continued to go without seeing the green bastard. By the end of the first full week of school, Vegeta was feeling frantic enough that when the damned woman invited him to the first home basketball game, Vegeta acquiesced. The woman’s face was so openly delighted that he almost wanted to tell her that it had nothing to do with her.

“Awesome! I’m so excited I got tickets. Piccolo’s made them a lot harder to come by because everyone wants to see him play. Have you ever seen him play?”

Vegeta didn’t even want to answer. He hadn’t, not since that day that the behemoth had mocked him in front of the entire basketball team and a decent crowd. But he had _longed_ to watch Piccolo every single day. The big Namek was beautiful on the court (and off, who was Vegeta kidding?), which was precisely why Vegeta never let himself exit practice by walking by the basketball courts.

Vegeta had also been keeping his extra workouts to the very early morning, not wanting to run into the big Namek again on the track or in the weight room that was reserved for varsity sport members. Goku, Raditz, Broly, and Turles—the Saiyan contingent of the wrestling team, all Earth-born—had all been giving him shit about working out so much that he wasn’t partying. Vegeta didn’t correct them when they all assumed he was whipped over the woman, and thus staying in to be a good boyfriend. Vegeta smirked, because he was staying in out of a misplaced loyalty, but it wasn’t to his pretty blue-haired fuck-buddy.

Vegeta agonized over what to wear to the game, but decided to just go as casual as possible with a tight tank and fitted jeans. When the woman arrived to collect him, she had body paint and said that he would have to go shirtless and paint an “I” on his belly.

“Why on Earth would I do that?” Vegeta said, affronted at the thought of being a part of some team spirit nonsense.

“Me and a couple of the other cheerleaders and our boyfriends are going to spell out ‘Piccolo’ on our bodies,” she said cheerfully.

“No. Never. Ridiculous,” Vegeta grumbled.

She stared at him in confusion for a moment. Then the foolish woman got in his face and said, “I fuck you constantly with no return on investment, you can paint a godsdamned letter on your pretty pecs.”

“I do not ask you to fuck me. In fact, I might argue that I fuck _you_ constantly. I’m not the one coming to your room all the damned time,” Vegeta said with a scoff.

“Yeah, you’ve never once come to my room because of your weird pride or whatever—“

“No, I haven’t come to your room for the same reason I don’t answer your texts and your calls. I’m not interested in a relationship. How have you not gotten that?” Vegeta snarled.

“You prick! Can’t you just…pretend?” she said and growled low in her throat.

“Why!? What is wrong with you that you would rather have a complete farce instead of a real relationship?” Vegeta asked, genuinely baffled.

“Because I like you, on the rare occasions you actually interact with me besides screwing me. And I like you screwing me, because you’re really good at it,” she huffed.

Vegeta closed his eyes and willed his cruel laughter down. It amused him to no end that while he was pretending to be fucking a giant green basketball player, the woman was having an excellent time taking his prick. Gods, what had he become? He hated Earth. “I’m sorry that I can’t be more than a glorified dildo for you, but I’m not…not…I just don’t want a relationship!”

“You won’t do any better than me, you know!” she said and put her hands on her hips. Then she tried to take his shirt off. “Come on, please, Vegeta? Everyone thinks you’re my boyfriend. If you don’t want a relationship, what do you care?”

“I won’t put any part of that insufferable man’s name on my body!” Vegeta hissed. But what flashed in Vegeta’s mind was the sigil that Piccolo had tattooed on his shoulder blade. The kanji of his house name surrounded by a barbed black ring. Vegeta _could_ imagine that branded on his chest. Vegeta’s fantasies about the Namek were increasingly vivid. Increasingly frequent. Increasingly detailed. In Vegeta’s mind, Piccolo’s hand spread over the tattoo on Vegeta’s chest, his mouth trailing over it, going lower.

“What? Do…do you have some beef with Piccolo?” she said.

“The man is…haughty!” Vegeta said lamely.

The woman gaped for a moment before laughing until she was wheezing, leaning on the wall, bent double. Vegeta growled, “Just what is so fucking funny!? What are you on about?!”

She choked out in between fits of giggles, “Oh…my…gods…You, Vegeta, complaining…about…haughtiness…is…hilarious.”

Vegeta ground his teeth. “Go to the game by your fucking self if this is your attitude!”

“See, oh my gods. You are so funny, Vegeta. Come on. Let’s go if you’re gonna be a proud bitch and not paint a fucking ‘I’ on your chest. I bet Raditz will do it for me. Hurry up. Gods. The things I do for good dick,” she said, shaking her head and taking his hand. He resisted his urge to cringe away from her.

Vegeta’s breathing was so fast as he entered the packed, noisy gym that he was afraid he might actually pass out like some Victorian damsel with his corset too tight. They took their seats and the woman rearranged their order with much mockery as Raditz agreed to put the letter on his chest. Raditz snorted and said, “What’s wrong with you, denying a beautiful woman such a simple wish, Vegeta? Is this just because Piccolo embarrassed you after you were complaining about him?”

Vegeta glared at Raditz, but didn’t dignify his comment with a response. Vegeta stood on the other side of the woman, who painted a P on her flat belly, tiny little P’s on each of her smooth, flawless cheeks, and across her forehead, the word “Demons,” their mascot.

Vegeta learned that there was much delight and merriment over the fact that Piccolo came from a small line of Nameks known as the Demon Clan. Not much was known about his origins as Namekian settlements were cloistered and close-lipped. The mystery surrounding their species only seemed to enhance Piccolo’s mystique on campus.

Vegeta was annoyed that in his brief communications with his father, he had discovered that even Saiyans, conquerors though they were, knew next to nothing about Nameks. The Namekian home-world had had some cataclysm that left them scattered throughout the galaxy, but that was all King Vegeta, leader of shitty fathers everywhere, had been able to tell Vegeta. Then he had tried to suss out why Vegeta was suddenly interested in Namekians. His father even had the gall to inquire whether there was “someone special” of a green persuasion in Vegeta’s life.

“Why aren’t the cheerleaders cheering at this game?” Vegeta asked the woman as she screamed, though the team wasn’t even out for their warmup yet. Vegeta hated waiting. He was terrible at it. His antsy nature meant that he preferred to dive into things. He hated it at wrestling matches too.

“I guess there was some equity issue, so we have to cheer at the same number of women’s games as men’s, and they decided this was the best men’s game to sacrifice since it’s bound to be a complete blow-out,” she said so close to his ear he could feel her lips brushing the skin. Vegeta closed his eyes imagining different lips on his ear, but opened them fast when his cock stirred.

The past week, Vegeta had been trying not to jack off because it had become an almost intrusive habit for him. The first two days of class he raced back to his room between classes and, with deep gratitude that he had a single, masturbated while shamelessly imagining the Namek doing all manner of lewd things to his body. The third day of masturbating four or five times a day, the woman almost caught him, apparently coming by for her own afternoon release, and he decided he needed to get ahold of himself and try to have some fucking dignity.

Unfortunately that meant he was very fucking pent up at the moment. The crowd, which was already giving Vegeta a headache, somehow got even louder, and Vegeta held his face in his hands. The team was jogging out onto the court in their warmups to crazy cheering. Last in line, not even needing to jog to keep up with his teammates, came Piccolo.

Vegeta hated how his body responded to that man. The big man’s face split open in a mouth-watering, fanged smile as he took up loping around the court before the whole team slid into doing layups. His legs were so long that it only took him a couple steps to move from the three-point-line to the basket. He added spins and flourishes like he was as choreographer, not a basketball player. It looked completely effortless. Graceful. Sexy.

When the team gathered on the sidelines to be announced, Vegeta wanted to hide as the woman shrieked, “Kick some ass, Piccolo!” The big man heard her, of course, with his sharp Namek hearing, and turned toward her. He tipped her a wave and smiled, but then he saw Vegeta and his expression morphed. Vegeta thought, for the briefest moment, that the man looked almost…sad. Like he didn’t want Vegeta at his game for some reason. Maybe he didn’t. Maybe he loathed Vegeta so thoroughly that he didn’t want him to enjoy the spectacle. In a flash it shifted back to cool indifference as he returned his attention to the coach.

The Demons crowd started stomping out “We Will Rock You” as the announcer called the starting five onto the court. The roar was deafening for the first four, but then the overly dramatic announcer cried, “And starting his first game playing for the Demons, at seven-foot-five, number sixty-nine, All-Conference winner three times running, _Piiiiiicccccolo_!”

Piccolo couldn’t jog onto the floor because that would have taken him clear to the other side of the court. He was just that tall. They set up in formation for the tip and Vegeta, rather than watching the ball, found his eyes glued to Piccolo’s taut ass, visible despite the long shorts that were the norm in basketball uniforms on Earth. Vegeta’s eyes climbed up the Namek’s powerful back, along the muscled length of his arm.

Vegeta hated how much he enjoyed watching the game. How he cheered and got into it like a devoted basketball fan when he had never before given a single fuck about basketball. Piccolo was a delight to watch, and destroyed the other team’s forwards so handily that Vegeta was fairly certain at least one of them spent his half-time crying, if his red, puffy eyes were any indication. Vegeta could understand that. How could anyone go head to head with someone that tall, but also that talented? Vegeta had seen other players over seven feet, but they were often lumbering, ungainly, and uncoordinated, with too much body to handle.

Not Piccolo, though. The man moved like he’d popped out of the womb basketball in hand. Vegeta only kept his cock subdued through aggressively thinking about what the woman would likely want later. Normally Vegeta had no problem eating pussy, and rather enjoyed it, but since the Namek crush sank its teeth into Vegeta, he had been unable to enjoy anything sexual without a lot of very focused fantasizing. It was hard to imagine Piccolo beneath him while eating pussy. He did it, because he didn’t want to be a shitty lover, and he always got her off, but it was the most monumental of his fake boyfriend tasks. He could practically smell that she would want head that night and it made Vegeta want to weep.

The coach benched Piccolo for the fourth quarter because the Demons were so far ahead. The rest of the Demons squad were a talented bunch too, so it was still good to watch, but Vegeta found his eyes drawn constantly to the bench. Piccolo leaned in toward the coach, talking with him, nodding, and his eyes never left the court. Vegeta envied his ability to focus. But of course Piccolo would have no trouble focusing. He wasn’t obsessing about Vegeta. That was a one way street. The game ended and was a blowout.

When the woman stayed gabbling with her fellow cheerleaders and the group of men that were along for the pussy-filled ride, Vegeta took his opportunity to slink away. It wasn’t easy escaping the crowded gym, and took time, but he managed to get out, breathing deeply of the crisp night air. The first signs of fall were in the scents on the breeze. Vegeta elected to walk a few of the forest trails that surrounded campus and maybe spare himself the woman’s needs.

Vegeta had his hands stuffed in his pockets and his head down as he strutted off into the darkness. He slammed into someone and grumbled as he looked to see who had the misfortune of crossing his path. A completely stunned Piccolo stood before him, looking sheepish, like he’d been caught jacking off or something equally embarrassing. Vegeta gaped, his eyes wide, wondering why it felt so much like fate.


	4. A Walk in the Woods

Trying to hide his own embarrassment at bumping into Piccolo, Vegeta muttered, “Sorry,” hoping the big man wouldn’t recognize him. Or that he’d forgotten Vegeta in the few weeks since they’d last seen each other. Vegeta’s throat tightened with nerves as the silence stretched out after his single word.

“Oh, hey, Vegeta, what…what are you doing here?” Piccolo said. The big Namek smelled clean, but the underlying scent of his skin was intoxicating and Vegeta was close enough that he’d barely have to move to lick the big man. He took a hesitant step backward.

“I…I was just going for a walk before I head back to my room. Apologies, I wasn’t paying attention, it seems ridiculous that I didn’t see a man your size,” Vegeta said and smirked, trying to recover himself so he didn’t seem like a complete moron.

Piccolo chuckled softly and said, “You aren’t partying with Bulma?” He canted his head to the side. The moonlight showed a bruise on his jaw where one of the other players had lost his temper and elbowed Piccolo, earning a technical. Piccolo was a clean player, hardly fouling at all, which only seemed to infuriate his opponents more. Vegeta supposed Piccolo didn’t need to foul, he was so good.

Vegeta said, “No, definitely not.”

Piccolo’s brows crumpled together. “You’re not partying with your girlfriend on a Saturday night?”

“What do you care? And she’s not my girlfriend,” Vegeta said, hating his defensive tone and the heat that rose to his cheeks.

“Oh. Huh. Does, um, does she know that?” Piccolo asked.

“How should I know? She likely says I am. I don’t…look…I’m sorry I ran into you. Enjoy your own partying.”

“I’m not partying,” Piccolo said, his eyes narrowing.

“What? Why not? Don’t you want to go celebrate?” Vegeta said, genuinely surprised. Piccolo was so cocky whenever Vegeta had been around him in social situations that he assumed the man fed on attention.

Piccolo scoffed. “Celebrate what? Trouncing a bunch of amateurs? It’d be more satisfying to beat _you_ at basketball than that crew.”

“I…but…everyone loves you,” Vegeta said and immediately regretted it.

Piccolo’s paralyzing half-smile tilted up his mouth on one side and he nudged Vegeta with his elbow. “Well, not _everyone_.”

“Tch. Well, enjoy whatever you’re off to do, perhaps your harem,” Vegeta said, as there was an entire gaggle of women he’d passed through comparing notes about fucking the big Namek. It enraged him and it had been a real struggle not to scream at all of them.

Piccolo pulled his chin in, blinking, and tipped his head off to the side again. “What? I don’t have a harem. I don't even have a girlfriend.”

“I…well…one doesn’t have to have a girlfriend to get one’s dick wet, does one?”

Piccolo brows squished together even more and he scrutinized Vegeta. Vegeta was very uncomfortable under that gaze. Vegeta sounded petulant and jealous, which he was, but he certainly hadn’t meant to sound that way. As usual, the Namek was getting the best of Vegeta, even when he didn’t mean to do so. “No, one doesn’t have to have a girlfriend. I guess that’s your situation with Bulma then?”

Vegeta growled, “My situation with that woman is that she keeps…dogging me. Nothing more.”

“So you fuck her out of…pity?” the Namek asked and seemed genuinely concerned.

“No, I…why are you so concerned with my relationship with the woman? If you want her, you can have her! She certainly seems enamored of you.”

Piccolo’s lopsided smile made Vegeta’s cock come fully to life. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He wanted to scream that he was getting a hard-on from a smile. Piccolo said, “I’ll see you around, Vegeta. Good luck with…that.”

“I’m serious, why are you…prodding me…about her?” Vegeta said.

Piccolo shook his head. “Just…surprised…at how you talk about her. She talks like you guys are as good as engaged.”

“What?! I don’t even answer her _texts_!” Vegeta squawked. He didn’t want Piccolo to think he was involved with anyone, but especially a petite, pretty _woman_. Vegeta still held out a tiny corner of hope in his heart because in the many hours he spent turning over all his interactions with Piccolo in his mind, he occasionally came to the conclusion that Piccolo had been flirting with him.

“Whoa! Settle down. Why are you getting so defensive?” Piccolo held up his big hands. The moonlight made his skin look almost turquoise. Vegeta wondered what it felt like.

“I…sorry. I don’t know what her deal is and it’s driving me crazy. I…Sorry. Have a good evening,” Vegeta muttered.

Piccolo looked around and said softly, “Can…Can I walk with you? I have to hide for a bit anyway, so I was going to take the trails. It’s fine if not, I’m pretty sure I can pull ahead of you if you want to be alone.” He took a couple dramatically long strides and smirked at Vegeta.

Vegeta’s heart thwapped against his ribcage so hard, he feared the Namek would see it. “Oh…Yes, very well. If…I…sure,” Vegeta stammered and wanted to slap himself. This was his moment, his opportunity to feel Piccolo out and see if Namekians were as…rigid…in their sexuality as humans. 

Piccolo meandered into the deeper darkness of the forest and said, “You good? Saiyans have good night vision, yeah?”

“Yes, we do. Do Namekians? I know little about your people,” Vegeta said, hating to admit his ignorance, but he figured it was bound to lead to less embarrassment than trying to bluff his way through a walk of indeterminate length. He tried to calm his heart, his breathing…his cock.

“We do. Not as good as Saiyans, but our hearing helps. We can echolocate in pure darkness, if need be,” Piccolo said and Vegeta saw him rub his jaw.

“That was a cheap shot,” Vegeta said.

“Hmm? What?” Piccolo said, but didn’t look at Vegeta. He seemed…reluctant…to look at Vegeta.

“I meant the hit to your jaw, completely ridiculous. It wasn't as though it would make a difference to the game. He stood no chance against you,” Vegeta said.

“Why did you come to the game?” Piccolo said, as if Vegeta hadn’t said anything at all.

“What?”

“Why were you there?”

“I…why…why does it matter?” Vegeta spluttered. His cheeks burned. 

Piccolo turned toward him, stopping. They were in the middle of the forest. No human would be able to see a thing, but Vegeta could see Piccolo trying to rip him apart with his eyes. “If Bulma’s _not_ your girlfriend, and is in fact annoying you, why the hell were you at one of _my_ games with her? Why would you bother? You obviously don’t give a shit about basketball.”

“How would you know?” Vegeta bit out.

“Because I asked around,” Piccolo said, looming over Vegeta.

“What?! Why…who…why would anyone even know that? I…I’ve been to basketball…well…I’ve gone to _a_ game before. Once. Last year,” Vegeta stammered. He felt cornered. Did Piccolo know that he had a huge crush? Vegeta hoped his blush wouldn’t be visible in the scanty light.

“And you all of a sudden decided to come to another one? I haven’t seen you at the gym. I haven’t seen you on campus. I haven’t seen you at the track since we sprinted, either. You’re obviously avoiding me, because I see all the other wrestlers. Our practices usually get out at the same time.”

“What are you getting at?” Vegeta said, swallowing hard. He almost hoped Piccolo would accuse him of the crush that he had. Then Vegeta realized that Piccolo must want to date Bulma and was annoyed that Vegeta had come to the game with her, distracting her from Piccolo. “Look, I’ll try…I’ll try to put Bulma off more so you can move in. She just uses me for sex, so as long as you offer that, I’m sure she’d much rather be with someone who wanted to be her boyfriend, not someone who just…performed…when necessary.”

“What the hell does that have to do with what I asked you? I don’t care about Bulma. She can make her own weird choices,” Piccolo said. He searched Vegeta’s eyes. “Never mind. Gods. I’m a moron. Good night, Vegeta.” Piccolo’s loping gait carried him far into the gloom before Vegeta could even process what had just happened. 

Vegeta, foolishly perhaps, shouted after the big man, “I wanted to watch you play. I don’t give a shit about basketball, but I wanted to watch you play.”

Piccolo froze, at the very edge of where Vegeta could make him out. He spun and strutted back to Vegeta, glowering. He said, “Why?”

“I…well…you’re… you’re quite lovely on the court,” Vegeta said, feeling his cheeks heat even more.

Piccolo’s eyes widened. Vegeta had hoped the dark forest might at least hide how much he was blushing, but the hope died when he saw Piccolo’s cheeks turned a pretty violet. The tall Namek wheezed, “Wh-what?”

“You heard me. Gods, just gloat about it already so I can start my recovery,” Vegeta said, his eyes darting away from the big man’s.

“But you completely avoid me everywhere else?” Piccolo said testily.

“Why wouldn’t I? You made your disdain for me quite evident.”

“That’s what you took away from our interactions?”

“Yes?”

“Fucking gods. You were the one talking shit about me!” Piccolo hissed, leaning down to get in Vegeta’s face.

“Yes, before I’d even met you! You pretended you didn’t even remember me to humiliate me publicly!” Vegeta said. He was breathing hard. Piccolo was close enough to kiss. Vegeta wanted it so badly. He didn’t know a single gay athlete though, and he’d read enough horror stories online. He didn’t think it would go well in the locker rooms if his fellow wrestlers found out he was trying to kiss other men.

Piccolo stood back upright and rolled his shoulders. “Yeah, well, what the fuck? You didn’t have to be a dick at that party.”

“I…Yes. I know. I…Sorry,” Vegeta mumbled. He supposed there was no harm in at least trying to be on better terms with the man he spent most ofhis waking and dreaming hours contemplating.

Piccolo started walking again. “You’re a fucking enigma, you know that?”

“What? How am _I_ an enigma?”

“It’s like everything you say doesn’t make sense with how you act and how you…how…never mind. I don’t know why I’m bothering to try to explain. Whatever. I’m gonna dodge off here anyway.”

“Why? There’s nothing in that direction,” Vegeta said, wracking his brain for anything in that direction.

“Because I don’t want to walk with you anymore,” Piccolo said.

Vegeta panicked and said, “I…Why? I wasn’t trying to be an asshole! I…I’m sorry that I was a prick. It comes fairly naturally to me. I’m just…Earth has been a challenge for me, alright? Many social things are…different…here. I have not adjusted well.” He had never been so open with someone. It shamed him, but the thought of being able to talk to someone freely was also exhilarating.

Piccolo looked startled by the admission. “That sucks. It must be really hard to come from a completely different planet. You don’t have an accent at all, so I forget you aren’t like the other Saiyan wrestlers that were born here.”

“I don’t know anyone else who came from Vegeta-sei as an adult. I wanted to get off-world, and I don’t really want to go back, but…I…I do not feel at home here,” Vegeta said. They continued walking and Vegeta sighed with relief that Piccolo stayed with him. He knew it was pathetic, but this was as close to a date as he was likely to get with Piccolo.

“What’s different about Earth? I mean the stuff you don't like, you know?” Piccolo asked. The big man looked at ease again and Vegeta was glad after their inexplicable terse exchange about his attendance at Piccolo’s game.

“It’s so many little things that’s hard to pin many of them down. But…I…well…I’d rather not say. I…I had a bad experience when I first got here. You would think me a fool,” Vegeta said. His eyes burned. He realized with horror that he was on the verge of crying. Vegeta hated that he cried when he was embarrassed or angry, not just when he was sad. Another very non-Earthling thing he did. Men on Earth did not cry. It was not allowed.

“Well…try me,” Piccolo said.

“Once was humiliating enough for a lifetime,” Vegeta said with a weak laugh, trying to swallow the lump in his throat.

“You ever let anyone in, or do you keep the carapace up all the time?”

“Carapace!? What…I…I don’t have an exoskeleton!” Vegeta spluttered.

“You’re so cute when you get all worked up over dumb shit,” Piccolo said and chuckled softly. Vegeta’s heart managed to beat even harder, even faster, but Piccolo continued, “I just meant you’re pretty…reticent. Is all your bluster and grump just to keep people from getting to know you? Is that why you don’t want to actually date Bulma?”

“I don’t want to date Bulma because I’m not attracted to Bulma,” Vegeta said with a sigh.

Piccolo’s eyebrows shot up. He said, “So you just like fucking her?”

“No, not at all. Attraction usually has a sexual component, does it not?”

“But…you…are…having…sex…with her?” Piccolo said glancing at Vegeta with narrow-eyed confusion.

“Why are you so interested in Bulma? I already said she’s all yours. I would not regret it even a little if she would stop bothering me,” Vegeta said. His heart sank at the mention of Bulma again. The woman was making him miserable on both ends, making him fuck her and consuming the attention of the man he wanted to fuck.

“I’m not interested in Bulma. She brags a lot, and she hangs out with basketball players, so I just hear her talking about your saintly cock all the time. I’m just startled to hear that she’s lying. She’s got a really vivid imagination,” Piccolo said and rubbed his jaw again.

“I mean, I have sex with her, but only because she keeps showing up and basically won’t leave until I do it.”

Piccolo halted again and Vegeta wished he’d just kept his mouth shut. The big man stared at him. “So you’re not attracted to her, but you…manage…to have sex with her constantly? This is why I called you an enigma,” Piccolo said and chuffed out a little laugh.

Vegeta said quietly, “I…It’s…Well…I’m supposed to, am I not?”

“Supposed to what?”

“Want to have sex with her?” Vegeta said and felt so vulnerable he wanted to curl up in a ball and disappear in the leaf litter on the forest floor.

Piccolo frowned, a big peak forming in the center of his brow. “Supposed to want to have sex with her? Man, Vegeta, Earth has done a number on you. You’re not _supposed_ to want to have sex with anyone in particular. Are you asexual? Do you just not feel sexually attracted to anyone?”

“What?! No! Just…just not her.”

“Huh. Intriguing. Bulma’s about as hot as it gets, so who are you attracted to, Mr. Indignant?”

“I…that’s…that’s none of your business,” Vegeta said, flustered and flushing.

Piccolo stared at him, but started them walking again. “Hmm…” Piccolo hummed.

“Who are you dating? Or do you just fuck your way through all the single ladies?” Vegeta asked.

Piccolo’s rumbling laugh seemed to be directly connected to Vegeta’s prick. “You’re kind of thick, aren’t you?”

“What? No! I get excellent grades. I enjoy wrestling, but it’s just a way to pay for it, not the reason I came to college,” Vegeta said.

“I don’t mean academically. Hmm…Every interaction I have makes you more interesting, Vegeta. You want to go get a drink?”

“I…Oh…Yes…I would like that…can…can we go far enough from campus to not be amongst our peers?” Vegeta asked, nervous that he was giving himself away.

“Yeah, that sounds perfect. It’s bad enough anywhere I go, but drunk college students are the worst.”

“What’s bad?” Vegeta asked, cocking an eyebrow at the big man. He pointed toward a trail that led back toward the parking lot where Vegeta’s car was.

Piccolo pointed straight ahead and said, “My car’s that way. Something tells me I’ll hold my liquor better than you.”

“Are we getting shit-faced? Perhaps we should just call a cab?” Vegeta said, nervous about what he might do if he got drunk around Piccolo, but so excited that he felt it was worth the risk.

Piccolo grinned down at Vegeta. “I dunno, you wanna get shit-faced? ‘Cause I have enough booze in my room to do that for a lot cheaper and without a cab involved.”

Vegeta’s breath caught. His whole body screamed that this would be excellent. That this would be a chance. Piccolo seemed, if nothing else, to have similar feelings about the social scene on campus. “Why not?”

“Don’t want to party, but do want to get shit-faced. Another little mystery, Vegeta.”

“I…don’t…well…I…A bar is also fine. Whatever you prefer. Drinks on me. For being an asshole.”

“Nah, let’s go to my room. I have a single so we don’t have to deal with a shitty roommate or anything,” Piccolo said and waved Vegeta onward. “We’ll have to be sneaky. There’s a few that camp outside my dorm, but I’ll show you my tricks.”

“A few what?”

“Fucking crazy chicks,” Piccolo said, “Sounds like you have your own crazy chick. I just have the fucking sense not to put my dick in any of them.”

“Well…I didn’t mean to put my dick in her,” Vegeta said.

Piccolo stopped again, hooting with laughter. He doubled over and put his hand on Vegeta’s shoulder, which sent Vegeta into fucking tachycardia. After a long moment laughing so hard he couldn’t speak, Piccolo wheezed out, “What the hell does that mean?”

“That night I made a jackass of myself with you, before the year started, I got very drunk. I woke up with the woman. It wasn’t my intention to bed her,” Vegeta said, perhaps more huffily than he ought to on his way to get drunk and praying that it might lead to him getting laid.

“Wow. The way I saw you doing body shots with her, it sure looked like you wanted to fuck her,” Piccolo said, an occasional chuckle still erupting out of him. But he was watching Vegeta carefully.

“I…That…As I mentioned, she is the sort of person I’m supposed to want to have sex with. I was humiliated. I was trying to alleviate that,” Vegeta said.

“Fuck all, Vegeta, you spend a lot of your life humiliated for someone with your…bearing.”

“What on Earth does that mean?” Vegeta said.

Piccolo bumped Vegeta’s shoulder with his elbow and smiled. “Means you should chill,” the big Namek said.


	5. Blow

Vegeta was surprised to find they lived in the same building, if not the same hall. His stomach fluttered at their constant proximity that he hadn’t even known about. A few times in the hall he had been certain he smelled the big man, but he assumed it was his overactive fantasy life hallucinating the scent. Vegeta headed for the main entrance of the building, but Piccolo, thrilling Vegeta so much he almost squealed, grabbed Vegeta’s hand and tugged him in a different direction.

“What are you doing? The door is that way,” Vegeta said.

“Yeah, but if we go in that way, we’re gonna have company, Bulma among them,” Piccolo said.

“Do…you don’t want them to…join?” Vegeta said, trying not to sound as hopeful as he ended up sounding.

Piccolo’s smirk caused a hot pool of pleasure to spread in Vegeta’s lower belly. Piccolo whispered, perhaps realizing that he had a very distinctive voice, “Definitely not. Do you?”

“No, definitely not.”

“Then you better follow me,” Piccolo said, and added to Vegeta’s pleasure by keeping ahold of his hand.

There was a high fire escape on the southern side of the building, away from the two main entrances, but also facing away from the bulk of campus. Only a few service parking lots were scattered in the forest on that side of the building. The thing was easily twelve feet off the ground; deliberately so, it was meant to be an exit, not an entrance.

“Very funny, you ridiculously tall man, but I can’t reach that and isn’t it locked unless the alarms go off?” Vegeta whispered.

“You’re a wrestler, right?”

“Yes, what does that have to do with anything?”

“You ever do any gymnastics? You kinda look like you would rock at gymnastics.”

“Well, yes, but—“

“Shh…I really don’t want anyone to know that I do this. Then you should be strong enough to climb, right? I think you’re too heavy for me to lift that high, but if you can’t climb, that’s what I’ll do.”

“What do you mean climb?”

“Shush or we’ll never get in! Come here!” Piccolo hissed and walked to the escape. It boggled Vegeta’s mind to see the giant simply jump up and grab the floor of the fire escape. The man had a hell of a vertical on top of his ridiculous size. He hung and whispered, “Shimmy on up!”

Vegeta gaped. He would have to touch rather a lot of Piccolo’s body to shimmy up him like a stripper pole. Vegeta was no slouch in the vertical department either, having done high-jump as well as gymnastics, and just generally being a show-off. He crouched and hopped up, wrapping his arms around Piccolo’s thighs. Piccolo began to giggle, and it was truly a giggle, because his pants were slipping off his ass as Vegeta clung to his thighs. Vegeta couldn’t help but laugh at the high sound coming out of the behemoth. He said in a low voice, “Who have you done this with? How did they avoid pantsing you?”

Piccolo’s giggling prevented him from speaking. Vegeta used his powerful wrestler’s thigh grip to hold Piccolo’s calves while he reached under Piccolo’s shirt, and gripped his bare waist. The giggle became more desperate as Piccolo squirmed and wiggled under Vegeta’s touch. “Are you fucking ticklish?” Vegeta said, but hauled himself up until he was like a female frog crouched awkwardly on Piccolo’s hips as he carefully moved his hands up onto Piccolo’s shoulders.

Piccolo wheezed out, “Oh man, are you tall enough to reach from there? You can stand on my shoulders if you need to, I’m strong enough, but fucking hell, you are significantly heavier than I anticipated.”

Vegeta heard, in the distance, feminine voices. They were moving closer. He scooted his thighs higher, squeezing hard on Piccolo’s ribcage, he pushed himself up into a handstand on Piccolo’s shoulders with his back facing the fire escape. He bent his arms and said, “Hold on tight!” He shoved off Piccolo’s big, burly shoulders and flipped, landing lightly on his feet on the fire escape. He was very proud of that little maneuver and he hoped Piccolo had been able to see it.

Piccolo did a pull-up and then continued up like he was pushing out of a pool until he was on the escape with Vegeta. “Quick and quiet up the steps. Light as a cat, go, go, go, I think someone heard your damn ruckus!” Piccolo breathed, pressing his hands on Vegeta’s lower back.

Vegeta darted up the stairs, willing his cock to stop misbehaving. How often would he have to jerk off per day to not get a fucking hard-on from Piccolo touching him in these innocent ways? “What floor?” Vegeta breathed.

“Straight up to the roof. Hurry, there’s a crowd of them. Fuck, where are they going? Hurry!”

They leapt off the top ledge of the fire escape onto the roof, stumbling into each other and toppling down in a tangled heap. Vegeta held his breath and willed his prick to not touch Piccolo, because he had a full-on erection now. Piccolo had a big hand over his mouth, trying to stifle his laughter. It was contagious and Vegeta hid his own mouth in the crook of his arm. They could both hear the group of girls talking at the base of the building. They were headed to some parking lot where one of them had parked illegally.

They were discussing the game and how sexy Piccolo was. Piccolo buried his face in Vegeta’s chest, laughing. Vegeta had the strange and novel sensation of being…intimate…with someone. Not necessarily even in a sexual way, but in a way that they were in something together, as a team. Even if that thing was merely avoiding all other college students.

Piccolo pushed up off Vegeta, trying not to out them by making even more noise as the got to their feet. Vegeta muttered, “How are we going to get into your room from the fucking roof?”

“Would you stop second guessing me? I got us up the fire escape, didn’t I? And I was not sure you’d be able to do that, honestly.”

“You jerk, it wasn’t hard!” Vegeta said, but he was grinning.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re just such a big, macho man. Come on, follow me,” Piccolo said and Vegeta’s heart flew up into his throat as Piccolo took his hand again, creeping them across the roof like cartoon villains with their exaggerated tip-toeing.

They reached the service door. Service doors were always locked from the outside and they set off the alarm. Piccolo opened it and no alarm sounded. He pointed to the way he had duct taped both the locking mechanism and the alarm trigger, but he said nothing. He bent and whispered in Vegeta’s ear. “I put the camera on a loop so they don’t notice me and undo my hard work.” His breath was fire on Vegeta’s cheek and neck, sending a pleasant shiver through his body.

Piccolo still held his hand as they walked down to the fifth floor. Vegeta was on the third on the opposite wing. Piccolo murmured in Vegeta’s ear again, “You see anyone? You’re less noticeable.”

Vegeta peered through the meshed glass as far as he could down either hallway. Piccolo must have rigged that door too, because it was silent as Vegeta pushed it open for a better look. He tugged Piccolo after him and said, “Which way?”

“Left,” Piccolo breathed, and dropped Vegeta’s hand, much to Vegeta’s disappointment. They hurried silently down the currently empty hallway. On the floor below, a party was raging and there were people in the main stairwell, so Vegeta pressed back against the wall. He perhaps didn’t get the notice that Piccolo did, but he was known as royalty on campus, so more people than he cared for recognized him.

Vegeta kept going until Piccolo silently touched his elbow and nodded at a nondescript door. He pulled his keys out as quietly as he could manage and unlocked it. He shoved Vegeta inside and followed on his heels. Vegeta moved to flip on the light, but Piccolo’s hand closed over his as the big man uttered a sharp, “Nuh-uh, don’t fucking do that.”

“What? We’re going to sit in the dark?”

“Sorta. Just give me a second,” Piccolo said, moving past Vegeta close enough that their bodies brushed one another. Vegeta gasped audibly and wanted to grab the noise out of the air and stuff it back in his mouth. He facepalmed once Piccolo’s back was to him.

He heard rummaging and a small flame flared to life, illuminating Piccolo’s palm as he moved it to a candle. He moved lithely across the room to another one. He shook out the match, put the ember in his mouth, and tossed it in the trash. “Hope that’s enough light for your Saiyan eyes.”

“It’s better than the fucking cheap fluorescents, honestly,” Vegeta said, looking around Piccolo’s room. It was bigger than Vegeta’s, likely had to be, because they had brought in a special bed for Piccolo. Vegeta tried to imagine Piccolo in his own twin-sized mattress and he had to swallow a laugh.

Piccolo tossed a large array of cushions up on his bed, making a sort of makeshift couch facing the tv he had mounted on the opposite wall. Piccolo shifted one of the candles to a little shelf by the head of his bed. He very slowly lowered the blinds on the window on that side. “There’s a couple chicks that I finally realized watch my windows for lights. Then they come around. Drives me fucking crazy. I wish I could live off campus.”

“Yes, me too,” Vegeta said, spiraling into a very involved fantasy of he and Piccolo living together in a little apartment. If Piccolo hadn’t been right there, he might have slapped himself to try to snap out of his ridiculousness.

Piccolo kicked off his shoes. “Sorry, I hope lounging on what passes for a giant’s couch works for you. A lot of effort to sit on a shitty mattress, but I have good booze to compensate. What’s your thing?” Piccolo opened a drawer under his half-lofted bed and revealed an array of bottles and a neat little stack of shot glasses.

“Drink much?” Vegeta said, raising an eyebrow and smirking.

“No, not much, but I want it to be good when I do. And you saw the shit I go through to get into my room, right? I don’t wanna do that to get a single fucking drink, you know?” Piccolo said, flashing Vegeta another hard-on inducing smile over his big shoulder.

“Yes, that was a rather elaborate system. They must really piss you off to go through all that every time you want to have someone over for a drink,” Vegeta said.

Piccolo laughed and said, “Uh, no. I wasn’t sure that would work at all because I’ve never tried.”

Vegeta’s breathing stopped. Did that mean Piccolo inviting him was somehow…special? Vegeta’s face flamed again and he hoped his blush wouldn’t show in the candlelight. “Oh…” he said and wanted to scream at how stupid he sounded.

“So? What’s your poison?”

“Whatever you’re having. It all tastes pretty much the same to me,” Vegeta said.

Piccolo laughed again and toed Vegeta’s foot and said, “Make yourself comfortable, if that’s a thing you know how to do.”

Vegeta took off his shoes and hopped up on the bed, trying to decide where he should recline. He moved so that they could sit on adjacent walls to sort of face one another. It meant their legs would be in each other’s way, but Vegeta was flexible, he would make himself compact if necessary. Or maybe not.

Piccolo clinked around in the drawer for a moment, handed Vegeta a shot glass, and climbed up on the bed, which made the bed seem small and cramped. He was impossibly long. His shoulders were so broad. “Quite a move you pulled there, show off,” Piccolo said, smirking.

“Well I had to do something to recover my dignity after us looking like a mated pair of frogs,” Vegeta said with a little chuckle and it pleased him that another little purple blush bloomed on Piccolo’s cheeks.

Piccolo contorted himself so he was on his side, bent around Vegeta’s legs, but facing him, propping his head on one hand. Piccolo held his head up with muscle only as he poured them each a shot from a bottle of vodka covered in Cyrillic, so Vegeta assumed it was better than most of the local vodka. He recapped the vodka and held his glass up. He grinned and said, “ _Ni ipko._ ” He clinked his glass with Vegeta’s and they both threw their shots back.

“What does that mean?”

“Cheers, sort of. How do you toast in Saiyan?”

“Oh gods, that’s a loaded question. There’s all sorts of nonsense depending on what you’re toasting and the solemnity of the occasion, the closeness of the drinkers, whether you’re all drinking the same thing. So many rules.”

“Fuck, no wonder you’re always stressing about dumb shit. You should try to assimilate. Or you gonna go back and assume the throne once you’re done with your degree?”

Vegeta snorted and said, “Gods know I have fucking tried to assimilate. I’m…different. I don’t know what is wrong with me, but I seem incapable of being like…like the Earthlings. And no, I won’t go back, or at least I hope not. I don’t know what I’ll do. I rarely think very far ahead, what with all the stressing I do about my day to day activities.” Vegeta smirked at Piccolo.

Piccolo stared at him with an adorable smile that Vegeta wanted to kiss off his face, push him onto his back, and frot until they came in their jeans. Vegeta cleared his throat and shifted so his seemingly permanent erection wouldn’t be easily visible. “Are you from West City? I tried to avoid all the ridiculous articles about you. My pride couldn’t take it, apparently.”

Piccolo laughed and his eyelids lowered. He poured himself another shot and held the bottle up in offer to Vegeta. Vegeta would have to pace himself if he didn’t want to make a complete fool of himself by throwing himself at the Namek. But he held his glass out anyway. Piccolo’s hands were elegant with their long fingers and well-kept, but sharp-looking, claws.

“No, I’m not. Not a huge fan, honestly, from what little I’ve seen. After my first few weeks I’ve become a bit of a…hermit. I’ve never lived around so many humans and Saiyans and Ice-jin, the few other species they’ve sprinkled on campus to make it ‘diverse.’ I think I’m one of like three Nameks. I’ve met one. He’s nice enough. He grew up in West City though, so he’s not particularly…sympathetic.”

“Is that why you’re tolerating my company? Because we’re fellow foreigners here?” Vegeta said, knowing that it was likely the case, but not wanting to hear it, despite that.

Piccolo’s fang showed as half his face hitched up in a smile and he shook his head. “You’re a fucking idiot, you know that?”

“So you’ve said. I aim to become an even bigger one. _To new friends and hope_ ,” Vegeta said in Saiyan, and poured his vodka down his throat. Piccolo clinked his glass against Vegeta’s empty one, and downed his own shot.

“What’s that mean?” Piccolo said after swallowing.

“Mmm…You’ll make fun of me.”

“You keep saying that, but I’ve really only made fun of you in regards to your height, and I honestly just can’t help myself. Look how cute you are,” Piccolo said and set his shot glass down in the rumpled blankets so he could goose Vegeta’s waist.

Vegeta squeaked and cringed to the side until he fell over, his head moving closer to Piccolo. Closer to his delicious smell. The heat that radiated off the big Namek. It surprised Vegeta that the Namek seemed to be warmer even than a Saiyan.

Piccolo’s laughter rumbled straight into Vegeta’s loins. The Namek said, “Oh-ho, so you’re ticklish too, huh?”

“Gods, I don’t know, no one’s ever tried to tickle me. Look at me!” Vegeta said, still laughing and squirming even more as Piccolo’s big hand snuck under his tank and gave him another squeeze. Vegeta’s laughter was uncontrollable. As was his erratic movement as he flailed to try to escape what was apparently his first time being tickled.

“Stop, fuck! Stop, oh gods! I yield, yes, I guess I’m ticklish!” Vegeta cried and flipped around as Piccolo cackled and got him more, trailing his claws over the ridges of Vegeta’s abdomen.

Piccolo’s deep laugh and his touch were causing Vegeta all sorts of problems. Combined with a couple shots, Vegeta was having myriad impure thoughts about the tall man. Piccolo pulled his hand away with what felt like a caress to Vegeta.

Vegeta stayed where he was on his back, closer to Piccolo than he had been, and drew one leg up and folded it over to hide his even harder hard-on. He rolled his head to smirk up at Piccolo. “That was cruel,” Vegeta said, but found his shot glass in the cushions.

Piccolo’s smile was soft as he said, “I can’t believe you’ve never been _tickled_ before. That’s like the saddest thing ever. Has anyone ever blown on your stomach? Do you even have parents, or do Saiyans just leave their young to be raised by wolves?”

Vegeta’s eyebrows came together. His buzz had arrived with all the movement and he said, “Had what done to my stomach? Did you say blown? Like…a blow job? That seems fairly obscene to have one’s _parents_ do.”

Piccolo’s laughter was loud and unabashed as he slapped Vegeta’s chest. He said, “Gross, Vegeta! No, gods, not a blow job!” Then before Vegeta could stop him, the big Namek yanked his shirt up and pressed his open mouth against Vegeta’s abs. Vegeta had no idea what was happening until a loud, flatulent sound erupted as Piccolo blew a giant, wet breath against the skin of his belly.

Wild, uncontrollable laughter spilled out of Vegeta and he curled up around Piccolo’s head, almost trapping it. He knew that his hard-on was probably stabbing Piccolo in the ear, but there was nothing to be done, even if he wanted to, because the damned Namek kept making more ridiculous noises. Vegeta flipped and flopped around to escape the tickling sensation, but also the unintended consequences of the hot, wet feel of Piccolo’s mouth against his skin.

Piccolo rolled onto his own back, cracking up, with his knees bent up. Vegeta tackled him, shoving his shirt out of the way, and he blew hard on the beautiful, taut ridges of Piccolo’s belly. Piccolo squealed with laughter and writhed like a fish out of water.

“Oh gods, no! Stop! Stop! I’m so ticklish!” Piccolo gasped as he giggled.

Vegeta stopped blowing, but his alcohol addled mind, or so he told himself, let his lips trail off the hot, suede-like pink skin of Piccolo’s abdomen. He sat back up, relieved that his counterattack meant he wasn’t jamming his erection into the skull of the sexy Namek. He looked down on Piccolo’s flushed, smiling face, unable to help his own shit-eating grin.

Piccolo panted out, “Unfair. I wasn’t counting on you being a quick study in techniques used to incapacitate toddlers, and apparently full grown Saiyans and Namekians.”

“I think it was perfectly fair. Guerrilla warfare can only be fought with guerrilla warriors.” Vegeta, emboldened by Piccolo initiating all their physical contact, squeezed Piccolo’s side, earning another peal of laughter and more jerky body movements as Piccolo threw his head back.

Vegeta’s chest ached with the sudden realization that he had never actually had this much fun in his entire life. It did nothing to allay his desire to kiss Piccolo. Or to saddle up on those narrow hips. Piccolo was still recovering from his laughter as he grabbed the bottle, uncapped it, and curled into a half sit-up to take a pull. He offered the open bottle to Vegeta.

Vegeta took it but said, “Gods, I won’t be able to leave the way I came in, I’ll be far too drunk. Will it foil your hermit-techniques if I skulk out of your room later tonight?”

Piccolo’s eyes dropped and then came back up as he slid a big hand behind his head. He held Vegeta’s gaze as he said, “I mean…if you’re really wasted, you can just stay here.”

Vegeta’s heart stopped. He was certain he had just died and this was the result of his final neurons firing. He searched Piccolo’s eyes and said, “Okay…” and tipped the bottle up, taking a long swig. He winced as he handed it back to Piccolo to cap. “Should probably find the shot glasses though, no good falling asleep with a shot glass digging into one’s hip.”

Piccolo’s laughter was out of proportion to Vegeta’s words, and he realized that perhaps Piccolo was thinking of other things digging into his hips. They ran their hands over the bed, even more disheveled than before thanks to their ticklish flailing. Vegeta patted near Piccolo’s ass, tempted to touch the bigger man as an experiment, to see if he got himself kicked out, but he also didn’t dare. He was having so much fun, that he didn’t want to risk it for what was probably zero chance of sexual gratification. But the glass was mostly under Piccolo, so Vegeta got to shove his ass out of the way to pull out the glass.

“Well that would’ve been an interesting ER visit. ‘No, doctor, he didn’t mean to put the shot glass in my ass, it just happened while he was blowing on my stomach.’ Poor doctor would probably feel compelled to explain blow jobs to both of us,” Piccolo said chuckling. He shifted onto his side, as the other shot glass still evaded capture. He reached around behind Vegeta, invading Vegeta’s personal space rather aggressively. Combined with his flippant discussion of he and Vegeta blowing one another and putting things in one another’s asses, Vegeta’s chest ached with hope.

“Jeez, Vegeta, is it up your ass? Where’d you put it?” Piccolo used his long arms to shove Vegeta face down into the mattress, very nearly landing him in Piccolo’s crotch. Vegeta wouldn’t have minded, of course. It would be reconnaissance in whatever war was happening at the moment. Piccolo scooted upright and moved Vegeta around more, like he was a ten pound dog, not a two-hundred pound Saiyan. “Seriously, you can just tell me if you put it up your ass,” Piccolo said, giggling.

“You’re completely insolent. You would be punished on Vegeta-sei,” Vegeta said and against everything he knew about Earth, smacked Piccolo’s ass.

“Well, that’s not so bad. I was under the impression Saiyans were tough,” Piccolo said and gave Vegeta a saucy little smirk. He turned away to continue his search, eventually dumping Vegeta entirely over his body.

“Good gods, I’m not a basketball, stop tossing me around!” Vegeta yelped, but he was still laughing. His face hurt he was laughing and smiling so much. The muscles of his cheeks didn’t even know what was happening.

“Ah-ha! I found it. Thought things were gonna get pretty personal there for a second, Vegeta,” Piccolo said and slithered into the position Vegeta had occupied before. “I think Bulma would punch me if she knew I absconded with you tonight.”

“Are you friends with her? You talk about her quite a lot,” Vegeta said.

“Mmm…No, not exactly. The cheerleaders are just always around, and she talks about you constantly. So I just…assumed…” Piccolo’s face was thoughtful. He flopped onto his back. “Gods. I didn’t have dinner. So I’m a bit drunk.”

“You? You’re massive. How can you be drunk?”

“Are you not drunk, with your cute little body?” Piccolo said and ran his finger down the center line of Vegeta’s chest and abs. Vegeta tried, and failed, to control his breathing. His racing heart. The thundering desire to kiss Piccolo.

Vegeta said, “I…no…I’m a bit lit up. Not plastered. Not blackout, thank gods. I can’t believe I let her get me that drunk.”

“Why’d you do that, anyway?”

“I don’t know, honestly. I’m a moron, as you’ve often pointed out,” Vegeta said and settled on his back next to Piccolo, their heads almost touching and their shoulders pressed tightly together.

“Hmm. Yeah. You are,” Piccolo said and Vegeta could see his smile out of the corner of his eye.

“Why didn’t you eat dinner?”

“Nerves, I guess.”

“ _You_ have nerves?”

“You can’t be ticklish without nerves. Or sentient, or—“

Vegeta tickled Piccolo’s side again, laughing at just the delightful sound of Piccolo’s laughter. “You asshole, you know what I mean. How could you possibly have nerves? You could have wiped the floor with them even if they let their whole bench play.”

Piccolo chuckled. “You don’t need to blow smoke up my ass, Vegeta.”

“No, you’ve taught me all the appropriate ways to blow tonight,” Vegeta said with a little drunken chortle.

Piccolo’s rumbling laughter rippled through Vegeta’s whole skeleton from where they were pressed together at the shoulder. “Well, not _all_ the ways.”

Vegeta laughed and said, “The night is young,” before he could stop himself.

Piccolo pushed up on his elbow to look down on Vegeta. His eyes, heavy-lidded, searched Vegeta’s before dropping to his lips. Vegeta’s breathing sped up to sprinting levels. Piccolo stared for a long moment, but before any of Vegeta’s burning questions or desires were answered, someone, or someones, perhaps, began pounding on Piccolo’s door.

“Piiiiccccooooolllloooo! You gotta come party after our home games, dude. You can’t sneak away. How did you even get home? Come on! The whole cheer squad is down in my room. Come on, come on! I know you’re in there! I saw your candles.”


End file.
